


Through the veil

by Marber312



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, One Shot, Post War, Sirius Comes Back, mentions of other characters death, short drabble thingy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:10:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marber312/pseuds/Marber312
Summary: The veil isn't death, just a place of foggy nothingness.Sirius is awoken by a sound and when he realises what it is he needs to get to it.---This isn't anything like I usually write but the idea got stuck in my head and I wanted to try it out.





	Through the veil

He was floating. Drifting. Not thinking, not minding anything. A foggy dream of nothingness. He, somewhere far back in his mind, knew of desperate shouts screaming his name, but he couldn’t remember who was calling or why it was important. Pain, sorrow, all of it was going away. He let it fade along with everything else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was drifting, floating, when something woke him from his slumber of nothingness. Something sparked a familiar reminisces, a lurking thought of importance; of urgency.

The something faded and so did the feeling.

So did he.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was once again made aware. Awoken by something. This time it happen sooner, closer to the last time, not that he knew of time. It just felt sooner. The something from last time was still a faded memory somewhere floating around in his prereferral memory, not yet gone.

The thing kept calling. Strange noises echoed from far away, bouncing around him. He listened. The small tingling in the back of his head grew. Maybe he should listen to what had nudged him from his spacious mindless thinking. He focused. More than he’d ever had to, to hear the sounds within the faint echoes that floated around him.

“Sirius.”

A very strange thing to call in such urgency. As the calling faded, so did his thoughts of it.

 

 

 

 

 

It was soon back.

 

 

“Sirius.”

 

 

 

A jolt travelled thought his being. He knew that word. He could no longer tell how but he knew it was connected to him somehow. It was directed towards him amongst all the shadows.

When the echo stopped calling, he continued to listen. He had almost lost interest when it resounded again.

 “Sirius.” It was a faint whisper this time. A desperate, sad sound. Repeating: “Sirius.” He had an inkling the strangeness to the echo was sadness. Crying. He had felt that once he believed. He had been incredibly sad once.

 

 

“Sirius.”

 

 

Yes, he wanted to answer the sad sound.

He felt awake. More awake than he had ever felt. He was Sirius. His name was Sirius! How had he ever forgotten? He tried to move towards the sound.

“Sirius.”

Someone was calling him. The fog felt thicker and for the first time he didn’t want its comfortable mist to fill his still clearing head. It was as if it tried to resist his wokeness, tried to stop him from moving too far. He didn’t care. He kept moving.

He was so engrossed with his need to get closer to the sound; to find out what it was, to notice how the echoing had stopped until it came back. He had gotten closer. The sound was clearer, less of a distant echo but it was still far to go. He glided through the mist, but the endless white smoke made the view short-sighted. It had never bothered him before but now he wished he could see further. He continued onwards. Curiosity stronger than his desire to stop and rest and be lulled back to nothingness.

The _voice_ – he recognised – was once again sad, thick, when it called him again.

“Sirius, I need you,” the voice echoed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Harry.**

 

 

His godson was calling him. 

His godson was crying.

His godson needed him.

It was as if he had been douched in cold water. He was finally awake. The feeling of drowsy sleep left him; his mind perfectly clear. Harry needed him. Harry had been calling him and he hadn’t responded. His legs felt like they were treading water but the only thought that occupied his mind was his need to get to Harry.

He needed to go faster. _Transform._ Running on four legs would make him faster. _Transform._ He didn’t know how he’d forgotten he could run on all fours. He had forgotten he could do something like that, but it was coming back. He was faster in his animagus form. He’d run faster as a dog. _Transform._

Arms and legs shortened. The transformation – once so familiar – felt odd; bones and muscles pulled and turned in ways they hadn’t for a long time. His limbs felt stiff and unused. His mind zeroed in on the task at hand. As it had in Azkaban. More complex and conflicting thoughts were shoved backwards; his mind focused on the primary task at hand. Focused on the necessity of getting forwards.

The voice faded. He ran faster. His breath was short but he was not getting forwards. He lost his direction. It felt as if he was going in circles. Harry’s soft sobs echoed around him from all directions, leaving no indication of where to go. Desperation rose. He stopped.

He couldn’t lose him now. He needed Harry to guide him. Needed something to aim towards. He needed Harry to know he was coming.

His voice didn’t carry. No sound came out as he tried to call out.

He cried out and nothing happened. He didn’t know how to.

He let his instincts take over. Air pressed out of his throat in a short bark. He wasn’t sure if it made a sound, he hadn’t heard anything. The sobs stopped. Dread gripped his heart. He had failed -again. He was too late.

Then Harry’s voice sounded, loud and distinct. He set off, the sounds growing clearer. Harry’s voice, thick with sadness, was laced with heart wrenching hope.

 

 

 

 

 

Sirius didn’t know how long he had been running, how long Harry had called for him in desperation, but his godson’s voice was now cracking and hoarse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sirius could almost see him, a dark silhouette; just a little further.

 

His nose smashed into something. Sirius tried to move around it but couldn’t get passed. He only lost sight of Harry and had to return. He could see Harry’s blurry form behind a last layer, just beyond a veil.

He tried to push through once more. Harry rose from where he had been sitting. Dread clawed at him again. He was right there.

He had to transform back he realised. He had crossed as a human, if he wanted to get back, he’d have to cross back as a human. The mist lay heavy and thick around him; close and waiting to sink its claws in and drag him away. He felt it swirl around his fur but finding no hold; waiting to grasp onto anything human to pull him back from where he had started. He knew he wouldn’t be able to come back again. He wouldn’t be strong enough to resist. He had tried and failed before; right after he crossed, when he could still see Remus hold his godson back, preventing Harry from running after him. He had been floated away with a last thought, a wish to keep Harry safe. He hadn’t been strong enough to resist then, he wouldn’t be strong enough to come back.

Harry wiped his face from tears. With desperation Sirius realised there wasn’t anyone there to wipe them for him. He pushed his nose against the thin layer separating them. He pressed as much of his head as he could flat against the resistance. He then started walking forwards, pushing with all his might. He got nowhere but kept pushing.

He started to turn back. A little at a time, desperately walking forwards as violent and malicious hands tried to claw him back; tried to grip him and drag him into oblivion. His skin felt tear, his mind filling up with fog and the barrier pressed against his head wasn’t budging. He kept pressing, kept walking. He forced his feet forwards as more of his being was turned back into a human. It was hard to keep the lull of nothingness from calling him back, from filling his head until nothing else remained.

 

 

 

The veil tore and his lungs breathed air for the first time in what seemed like forever. His chest followed his head and with his upper body free he pushed once more and thudded to the floor. He willed his arms to crawl forwards until he could pull his feet out of the archway, leaving nothing for the mist to grab and pull him back by.

Harry turned around at the sound of the thud. He was older than when he left him. An adult. Tall and strong, his hair the same untameable whirl of black curls it had always been. Just as his father’s always had. His bright eyes was wet with tears, red and puffy from crying.

“Sirius?” Harry’s voice was disbelieving and childishly hopeful even though cracked and hoarse. Sirius put his weight onto his hands and tried to stand up, his body was heavier than he ever remembered it being.

He fell to his knees when Harry slammed against him Harry made sure to not inch them closer to the veil he had come out from and they wobbled sideways.

Harry’s shoulders… all of him, racked as he sobbed, burying his head in his shoulder clutching him desperately. Sirius clutched him back. He had missed so much but he was finally back.

He slowly swayed them, holding Harry closer, telling him it would be alright. He kissed the side of Harry’s head, all he could reach, and the poor boy cracked. Sirius held him as they cried. Whispering that he was fine. He was okay. They were okay. Time ticked on. It must have been hours before Harry let go. Tears were still streaming down his face, but he helped Sirius up to his feet and away from the veil.

Harry was wearing Auror robes. So much had happened in his absence.

Harry repeatedly tried to form a sentence but fell short multiple times. As if what he was about to say was too heavy to carry.

Sirius realised the war was over. He knew he had been gone for a long while and he knew war demanded more lives than what was fair. He didn’t want to know who else had perished along side him.

“Remus, gone. Tonks too. And Fred.” Harry’s tears streaked down his face. “Dumbledore and Snape too… But we won.” His godson rambled.

The loss of Remus was hard, hearing one of the twins were gone left an indescribable feeling in his chest. Tonks. Sweet marvellous Tonks. He felt less moved by Severus’ passing but his heart tinged for him too. He wondered if Dumbledore’s dead hand had ended their old headmaster or something far fouler.

They cried together for all which was lost, for all that was broken until there were no tears left.

“I thought I lost you forever too.” Harry said.

“I know.” Was all Sirius could say. There was nothing he could to for Harry’s grieving and sorrow but to be there. As he hadn’t been.

“Thank you for calling me. I’m sorry it took so long.”


End file.
